


Aerial Silks

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aerial silks, I'm so sorry, Keith is gobsmacked, Lance curses in Spanish, Lance does aerial silks, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), acrobat lance, aerial lance, give me more of Lance being awesome, god they're both so gone for each other, how is that not a tag?, lance is amazing, tagged for language, this is barely edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-09-02 13:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16787680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: Keith startles Lance in the middle of aerial practice and ends up having to escort him to the medbay.~Lance is amazing and Keith is turned on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thing I threw together for a scribble because I need more of Lance doing amazing aerial things and just generally being really awesome.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m screwing around trying to add a new more perfunctory chapter 1 to this courtesy of Empress Aelin. I don’t know if I’m going to get it right on the first try so if you get multiple email updates I’m so sorry.
> 
> Edit: Cool! Got it on the first try. Have some Paladin interactions.

Keith stops by the kitchen for something to eat before heading to the training room. He’d never been inclined to eating breakfast in the mornings but maybe they still had some of those goo bars lying around he could pilfer for later.

He hadn’t slept well the night before and as such is running a few hours behind his usual routine. Not that sleeping in is going to stop him from getting a few hours of practice in before starting the day. 

“Hey Keith. Are you just getting up?” Hunk frowns at him worriedly as he walks in, heading for the cabinets. 

“Yeah, bit of a late start.” He ties his hair back to get it out of his face and begins shuffling about, looking for snack foods and prepping a nice hot cup of tea. 

Pidge looks at him over the rim of their glasses, tapping away at something or other on their laptop. 

Hunk frowns. “You okay? Late starts aren’t usually your thing,” he hedges, concern in his eyes. 

Keith finally finds what he’s looking for and pockets two of the bars in triumph. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Allura doesn’t have anything planned for us today does she? I wanted to get a few hours of practice in first.”

Pidge makes a face, pursing her lips. “No,” they drawl, an expression Keith can’t quite pin down crawling across their face. 

“But if you’re headed for the training room right now, I wouldn’t.”

Keith scowls. He likes routine and unless the training room is filled with goo, on fire, or going to try to kill him again there’s no way he’s going to skip out on a good practice session. 

“Why not?”

Pidge shrugs, dropping their eyes and looking far too smug. 

“I just wouldn’t. Lance is still in there.” 

Hunk peers over their shoulder to check the time on the laptop. “He can’t still be in there can he? It’s been three hours.” 

“Well he isn’t here and this is his usual stop after whatever it is he does in there.” Pidge frowns up at Hunk. “What  _ does _ he do in there? You never told me and Lance is cagey as shit about it.”

Hunk ruffles their hair. “You don’t actually care so it doesn’t matter.” He grins and moves back around the counter to pull out a loaf of bread from the oven, a wave of heat rolling into the room with it, making the air shimmer. 

“Yeah, but you implying I’m not supposed to know just makes me want to know more.” Pidge grins, all teeth but Hunk isn’t swayed. 

“He’s working on his cardio and flexibility. It’s mostly just yoga and stretching but you know how hard it is for him to concentrate. Having people around just makes it hard for him to focus.”

Pidge scoffs and turns back to their laptop, burning curiosity flagging with the banality of Hunks answer. 

“Boring.” 

“Told you.” Hunk waves Pidge off, turning to look at Keith. “Besides, it’s been long enough you’re probably good to go. He should be gone by now. Maybe he’s in the shower. If you see him on the way send him over. He needs to eat.” 

Keith looks dubiously between them both, sipping his tea. 

“What is  _ Lance _ doing in the training room? He’s never in there.”

Hunk frowns, studying Keith for a moment, setting the bread aside to cool. “Sure he is. He’s in there almost as much as you are. You’ve never run into him?” Hunk’s frown deepens at the look of disbelief on Keith’s face. “I thought maybe you two were training together now or something.”

Keith shakes his head, still not quite believing what he’s hearing. Lance. In the training room. Actually working? Not possible. 

Keith snorts into his tea in disbelief, shaking his head to rid himself of the idea. Preposterous. 

He finishes his tea and washes out his mug, placing it back in the cabinet.

“If you guys are still here in a couple of hours I’ll see you then.” He peers around Hunk’s shoulder at the bread, sniffing curiously. 

“That smells amazing. Save me a piece for later.” He claps Hunk on the shoulder before tapping his pocket as if to make sure his goo bars are still there and heading for the door. 

“I make no promises it’ll still be here!” Pidge shouts after him. 

“Heathen,” Hunk scolds and Keith finds himself smiling as the doors shut behind him. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Found something weird with this chapter. There was an entire paragraph missing? So apologies for everyone who's already read this and had to deal with the weird gap. It's fixed now.

Keith doesn’t know what he expected when they told him Lance was in the training room but it sure as shit wasn’t  _ this _ . Maybe he should have listened to their warnings not to disturb him. He hadn’t understood why Pidge and Hunk were being so secretive about what Lance was doing in the training room. If he actually was in there. Or at least Hunk had been cagey about it. Pidge hadn’t cared. And even if he was Keith didn’t think it was a big deal if he interrupted. 

He was wrong. 

The doors hiss open and the music that was muted through them spills out into the hall as he walks in. He’s momentarily distracted, wrapping the cloth around his hands and between his fingers to notice Lance. But then a movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention and he _sees him._ Not on the floor or practicing at the firing range, not even fighting the gladiator but thirty feet in the fucking air. He’s suspended by nothing but two long swaths of red fabric, curling around him, the contrast of the material against his warm skin striking and leaving Keith’s mouth dry.

He doesn’t know why the sight of Lance in red, his color, instead of blue makes his heart thud painfully in his chest but it does.

He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of black yoga pants and the only thing Keith can think is Lance looks good in black. Sweat glistens on his skin as he does something complicated Keith can’t follow and then he’s lying in the air, his back arched with nothing but the fabric and his own arm tucked under his ribs holding him up. His body stretches, one arm draped to the side, his head tipping back, baring his throat.

For a heartaching moment it looks like he’s been shot, body limp in the air in a soft arch, the red fabric spilling towards the floor beneath him. Keith can see his chest heaving, sweat damp hair curling against his forehead. He curls into himself, looking heartbroken with the music and then the position changes and he’s turning, the fabric twisting around his opposite leg and just below his hip, that one arm still extended loosely below him, now facing the floor as he straightens the arm he’d had tucked under his side, hand tight around the material.

It’s the most beautiful thing Keith has ever seen and only the heavy feel of his pulse in his throat and the way his vision begins to fuzz on the edges reminds him to breathe. He didn’t know Lance could look like that, could _move_ like that. Didn’t know anyone could. Has never seen anything look so like water in the air.

And then Lance is opening his eyes, the raw vulnerability in his expression vanishing in surprise and terror as their eyes meet for one heart stopping moment; and then he’s falling. His grip on the fabric slips beneath sweat slicked palms and he jerks violently in the air, the fabric around his leg catching, twisting him hard to one side before finally letting go and he hits the floor with a shout of pain. It would almost have been comical if Keith wasn’t so scared. Lance doesn’t move.

“Lance?”

There’s a terrible moment of silence where Keith can’t make his legs work and then he sees Lance breathe.

“Fuck!” He makes another noise of pain, shifting on the mat he’d hit but doesn’t stand.

“Oh my god, Lance!” Keith bolts across the room, dropping to Lance’s side, fear cold against the back of his neck. That was a nasty fall.

Lance still hasn’t turned over and Keith is almost afraid to touch him, afraid of hurting him further. His hand touches Lance’s shoulder.

“Don’t,” Lance grinds out and Keith snaps his hand back. “God damn it Keith,” he gasps, finally managing to lift himself off the mat with one hand. His face is creased in pain and the line of his shoulder is _wrong._ His lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl of pain, eyes still squeezed shut.

“God damn it,” he whispers again, blinking back tears. He turns a glare on Keith, one hand cradled in the air above his dislocated shoulder.

“Didn’t they tell you I was in here!?”

Keith swallows, his throat clicking. “Yeah but I didn’t think…” His voice is a dry rasp, his eyes flitting over Lance for further injury.

“Obviously,” Lance snaps, blinking sweat out of his eyes. “No one else is supposed to be in here so shit like this doesn’t happen. You scared the shit out of me!” He winces, trying to pull his leg under him, letting out a string of angry Spanish. Lance’s shoulder twitches, the muscles spasming and he shouts again.

“I have to get you to the medbay.”

Lance shakes his head vigorously, still cradling his shoulder. “It’ll stop hurting if you can just get it back in the socket,” he gasps.

Keith blinks at him dumbly. “And you want me to do that?”

“You broke, you fix it,” he snaps. He takes a jagged breath, trying to reign in his temper. It takes a moment longer than he’d like. “It’s not the first time,” he says, lowering his voice. “I can show you how. I can’t do it myself.”

“It’s going to hurt.””

“It already hurts,” he snaps again. “Just do it.”

Keith lets out a breath but moves to Lance’s other side, putting his hands where Lance tells him to, feeling the muscle spasm under his fingers. Lance moves his thumb into place.

“Apply pressure with your thumb while you lift and rotate my arm, slowly,” he breathes, trying to relax. Keith does, carefully moving his arm until he feels the joint pop back into place. They both wince and Lance lets out a sigh of relief, his body sagging. He wipes a hand over his face, Keith lowering his arm and tucking it into Lance’s lap.

“I’m really sorry.”

Lance takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’ve done worse.” He tries to smile now that he’s not in as much pain. “If only it were as easy to fix my leg.” He doesn’t know how bad it is but it hurts and he knows he can’t walk on it. His joints all down his right leg feel rattled. His knee is throbbing.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Keith doesn’t mean to blurt that out and his cheeks flush.

Lance lets out a puff of air that might be a laugh, running a hand back through his hair. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me Mullet.”

Keith purses his lips at the nickname but begins to unwarp the loose material he’d been wrapping his hand with, abandoning the endeavor he’d started before walking in. He begins to, fashion a makeshift sling for Lance’s arm. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Lance laughs, taking pity on him.

“It’s called aerial silk. My sister introduced me. I started with gymnastics as a kid, dabbled in pole, but liked the fluidity of silks more and eventually shifted over.”

“Pole? As in-?” He flushes and Lance laughs again.

“Yes Keith, as in pole dance.” He has mercy on Keith and directs the conversation back towards his aerial work. Keith loops the material under Lance’s arm to stabilize his shoulder, wrapping it over his neck and tying it off.

“I competed in silks for a couple of years,” Lance explains. “But I didn’t have the time to put in the practice I needed while in the Garrison.” He shrugs with his good arm, the movement drawing Keith’s eyes. “It’s been nice to get back into it again.”

Keith had always thought Lance was skinny but sitting beside him now he realizes he was wrong. He just has zero body fat. Every inch of him is stripped down muscle and corded tendon. It’s terribly distracting.

“You’re good.” Keith curses. He hadn’t meant to say that either.

Lance laughs again. “You’ve never even seen silk work before, you’re not the best judge.” Keith flushes hotly but Lance’s eyes are sparkling. “But thank you.” His expression has gone almost fond, something cheeky in his expression. “You should see my drops.”

“I think I just did.”

Lance sputters and then they’re both laughing. “Fuck you,” Lance giggles. It turns into a wince as he shifts his weight, his leg reminding him it’s still not working properly. He presses a hand over his thigh, running it down to his knee with a wince. He’s lucky they have healing pods.

Keith moves to prod his ankle, trying to decide if it’s sprained while Lance pokes at his knee.

“I don’t know what a drop is but I can guess.” He flexes Lance’s foot curiously and Lance hisses. It’s already swollen. “And yeah,” he says softly, “I would like to see that.” He keeps his eyes on his fingers instead of Lance’s face, already embarrassed but he’d give anything to see Lance in the air again. It had taken his breath away.

Lance is quiet for a moment, his breath hitching as Keith maneuvers his foot again.

“Yeah?” He sounds almost shy and Keith flicks a glance up at him through his hair before he can think better of it.

Keith nods, still pretending to busy himself with Lance’s ankle.

“I could- I could teach you. If you wanted.”

Keith laughs, finally sitting back. “No offense but I don’t think I’ll _ever_ be that flexible.”

Lance flushes again, trying to brush off his pleased embarrassment with humor. “I can’t tell if that was a compliment or not.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Keith teases. He stands, offering Lance a hand up. “Now come on, let’s get you to the medical wing.” He pulls Lance’s good arm up over his shoulders, one arm around Lance’s waist, helping him limp out of the training room. He stops at the intercom, pressing the button with his finger.

“Hey Coran, can we get you in the medical bay? Lance needs a pod. He’s hurt,” Keith says into the intercom. Lance makes a noise of protest next to him.

 _“Flying again eh?”_ Coran asks a moment later, his voice amused. Keith idly wonders how long this has been going on if Coran knows about it. And if Lance has been hurt often enough for Coran to tease him about it.

Before he can respond Lance is leaning around him, finger on the button. “Bite me Coran,” he says but he sounds amused.

Keith can hear the man’s laughter before the comm cuts out. He shoulders Lance’s weight again and they begin the slow trek to the medbay.

“So how long has that been there?” Keith asks, his fingers twitching around Lance wrist.

“The silks?” Lance tips his head back, thinking. “Umm, shit, four? Five months? It’s hard to keep track of time out here.”

Keith almost stumbles. “What? How have I never noticed?”

“Because most of the time you stick to a very rigid pattern and it’s easy to avoid you. I’m not exactly a fan of an audience.”

“You? Passing up up an opportunity to garner attention? I don’t believe it.”

Lance flushes and pokes him. “Yeah well, I may be an attention whore but I also have a perfectionist complex. And practicing is always messy and ungraceful. Performing is different.”

Keith hadn’t expected that kind of honesty from Lance.

“Oh.” They go another few feet in silence, Lance hopping awkwardly down the hall.

“Then why…” Keith chews on his lower lip. “Why did you invite me…” He trails off awkwardly, seeing Lance flush next to him. His eyes catch on the blush, watching as it spreads down Lance’s throat and across his chest. It makes his freckles stand out all the more and Keith can’t help the smile he can feel crossing his face.

“I don’t know,” he finally mutters and Keith knows he’s lying. He stops for a moment, pulling Lance higher against his shoulder, grip tightening on his naked waist. He can feel him shiver.

“What were you thinking about? When you were up there, before I broke your concentration.” He looks at Lance out of the corner of his eye. He’s still bright red.

“Why?” He sounds wary and defensive, something Keith mentally takes note of. He chooses his next words very carefully, taking a moment to form them.

“Because you looked heartbroken.”

He feels Lance tense against him as he pulls a sharp breath. He isn’t sure what to make of that.

“Yeah well, we’re all heartbroken in one way or another aren’t we?” he says after a pause.

Keith’s thumb strokes over the inside of Lance’s wrist and he shivers again. He can’t argue with that.

“I’m sorry,” he says and his voice is soft. Lance’s body relaxes into Keith just a little.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “me too.” He tries to flick a strand of hair out of his eyes, struggling. Before he can think better of it Keith reaches up, brushing it out of Lance’s face with a finger. They both stare at each other for an awkward moment before Keith is looking away, taking Lance’s wrist again and shuffling them down the hall.

“Thanks,” Lance says softly.

Keith gives a sharp nod. “Yeah.”

They make it to the medbay just as Coran pokes his head out of the door, looking for them. He sees Lance hanging from Keith’s shoulders and tuts in disapproval.

“It’s not my fault this time, I swear!” Lance cuts in before Coran can say anything. Coran just shakes his head. “Keith came in and startled me.”

“When we talked about installing those silks of yours I did not expect them to be so...damaging,” he says poking at Lance’s shoulder. Keith swats him off.

“He’s right, this one’s on me. I shouldn’t have interrupted. He only fell because of me.” He can feel Lance staring at him.

“Well were you at least using the mat? How many times have I told you-“

Lance rolls his eyes. “Yes I was using the mat Coran. It’s the only reason I didn’t bust my head.”

“It is thirty feet Lance!”

“Oh my god.” He drags out the words just to annoy Keith. “Not you too.”

Keith frowns, leading him to a table and he hops up as best he can with only one hand and a bum leg.

“Can you get my foot? I don’t think I can bend my knee.”

Keith purses his lips but doesn’t say anything. He takes Lance’s foot, helping him lay down. His face distorts in pain and he whines, trying not to bend his leg. By the time he’s laid out on the table his breath is shallow and rapid and sweat has dappled across his forehead again.

“God you really did a number on me,” he breathes and Keith feels a stab of guilt as Coran begins cutting away Lance’s pants.

“Oh come on! These are my favorite pants!” Coran slices through the fabric up to his hip, the material barely clinging to him and Keith flushes. He’s never seen so much of Lance’s skin so on display. Lance groans, frustrated, his head thunking back to the table.

Coran tuts again, poking at Lance’s swollen and discolored knee. There are bruises already forming along his hip and thigh, his knee swollen and discolored along with his ankle. There are an assortment of other bruises all along his body and Keith notes the blisters across Lance’s palms as well. Keith can’t help wincing at the sight. This is his fault.

He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the far wall.

Coran putters around for a bit, generally fussing and calibrating the pod. Lance turns his head and looks at Keith.

“I can hear you thinking.” He smiles when Keith’s fingers tighten in his own sleeve. “Stop it,” he scolds but there’s no heat behind the words. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Keith glares at him. “Like hell it wasn’t.”

“You’re lucky we have healing pods,” Coran says idly. He comes over to poke Lance’s knee again. “Or your flying career would likely be over.” He sounds far too cheerful but Lance just rolls his eyes again.

“You say that every time.”

“And you are making this a regular thing. Should I start storing beverages for you?” He starts a full body scan of Lance’s injuries.

Lance picks his head up off the table. “You know a cup of coffee would be nice? Maybe some fresh fruit? I always come in and leave so famished.”

Coran’s mustache twitches with a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” He runs through the scans and adjusts the settings on the pod again.

“Make yourself useful and get dressed.” He tosses one of the pod suits at him and Lance snatches up the scissors, cutting his way through the rest of the pants. They’re already a lost cause.

Keith forces his eyes away. “I’ll uh- go tell everyone else you’re okay.” He backs from the room, trying to avert his eyes as Lance finishes chopping through the fabric.

“Hey Red.” Keith stops but doesn’t turn around. “Offer still stands.” Keith chews on the inside of his cheek before nodding and slipping out the door.

In a few minutes Lance is suited up and suspended in the pod, his body beginning to heal.

When he comes out there’s a mug of something hot and a plate of sliced fruit waiting for him.

He doesn’t find out it was Keith’s doing until a few days later.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: OH my god why didn't you guys tell me there were so many damn spelling errors! Traitors. Cleaned up and edited a few bits so it flows more nicely. And here's a link to a scribble of one of the poses Lance is doing when Keith walks in:  
> http://freyamaat.tumblr.com/post/180633500238/have-a-drapey-lance-i-gave-up-on-coloring-this


	3. Butterfly Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technically these aren't chapters because I have no idea what the flow of time is like and I can't guarantee they'll be consecutive, but I'll do my best. This is the follow up session Keith first comes to, Lance finally convincing him to get in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked, I have delivered. I hope it's okay. God they're both such idiots.

Lance preps for another butterfly drop, adjusting the fabric around his legs as best he can when he’s hanging upside down. It used to be an easy maneuver but for some reason he can’t get it to work. It’s driving him nuts. 

He takes a steadying breath, hands tight on the silk and drops, the ground rushing up to meet him. For a split second he thinks he has it, then he’s jerking to a hard stop, the fabric burning painfully across his lower back and he’s left hanging at an a. 

He curses in pain, slowly untangling himself and dropping to the floor. 

“God damn it,” he hisses, pressing a hand to the small of his back. It stings, the skin stripped raw but his hand doesn’t come away bloody. He supposed he should be grateful.

He curses in a litany of Spanish, gesturing rudely at the silks over his head. They hang impassively above him.

“You alright?” Keith has come to a stop beside him, eyes on the red strip of skin he can see across Lance’s back. 

“Fine,” he mutters. His hands fall to his hips as he glares up at the silks, fingers tapping irritably. He wants to try it again, wants to get it right but he didn’t bring a shirt with him and he’s afraid of further stripping the skin from his back. It’s already going to scab like a bitch.

“Give me your shirt.”

Keith blanches, jerking away from Lance in surprise. “I beg your pardon.”

“Your shirt,” Lance says again, extending one hand and gesturing a universal ‘gimme’ motion. Keith crosses his arms over his chest and Lance tries not to smile.

“Why?” 

“Because I’m doing it again and I don’t want to tear the shit out of my skin.”

“Why didn’t you bring your own shirt? Just go get another one.” His cheeks are bright red. 

“Because Keith,” he says in the most long suffering way possible. “My room is all the way at the other end of the castle. I’m not walking all the way there and back to grab a shirt when you could be giving me yours. It’ll take thirty seconds you big baby.”

Keith grinds his teeth but finally uncrosses his arms and begins shucking out of his jacket. He drops it on the floor by his feet.

“I hate you.” 

Lance just smiles. Keith strips out of his shirt, shoving it into Lance’s waiting hand. 

“Thank you,” he says magnanimously and tugs it on over his head. It smells like him and Lance shivers, tucking the material into his pants. He begins to climb the silks again. Keith watches from down below as Lance ascends, arms crossed over his chest. He still can’t believe how easily Lance does that. 

Lance gets into position, adjusting the material, inverting, and then drops. He’s barely half way down before the fabric pulls wrong and he has to abort. He drops to the ground in frustration. His hands are hurting. 

“Fuck it.” He turns to Keith. “Do you wanna learn? I think I’m done for the day but I could still teach you to ascend if you’d like. I hate leaving practice angry.” 

Keith looks dubiously up at the material. 

“I don’t know.” His arms are still crossed in front of his bare chest protectively, like he’s self conscious without his shirt on. Lance can’t fathom why. Keith is gorgeous. 

He tries to work the anger out of his voice. He really does want to teach Keith. 

“It’s really not that hard,” he coaxes. “And I’m not going to make you go all the way to the ceiling.” He tries not to smile as Keith’s eyes flick up. “You’ll be like, maybe a foot off the ground.”

“Do I have to be half naked?” A surly note creeps into his voice and Lance grins. 

“No, but I don’t mind.”

Keith flushes again, holding his arms more tightly against his chest and glaring. “You’re the worst.”

“Is that a yes?”

Keith groans, dropping his arms and tipping his head back to presumably mutter a prayer for patience at the ceiling. Lance can’t help staring at the line of his throat. 

“Fine, teach me something.” 

Lance can’t stop smiling.

They spend the next few hours working together, Lance walking him through the basics. He gets Keith to try ascending without the loop of fabric around his foot, just out of spite, using only his arms. He can’t stop laughing at the look on Keith’s face at how hard it is. 

“You make it look so easy.”

Lance can’t help the flush of pleasure he feels at the compliment, blushing and looking away.

He teaches Keith various ways to climb and how to control a descent, just trying to get him comfortable in the air, to trust the material to hold him. He does his best not to laugh at the clumsy way Keith moves, remembering exactly how self-conscious he’d felt when he first started. It’s still amusing. 

The first time Keith does a foot lock, the fabric looped firmly under his foot and around his ankle, leaning back into a figurehead, one knee tucked up underneath him, he flushes. 

“I feel stupid.” 

Lance tries valiantly not to laugh. “Try it forwards, it’s more graceful.”

He helps Keith stand, the fabric still knotted under one foot. He splits the silks and slides forwards between them, Lance’s hands fluttering around him, keeping him steady. 

“Elbows inside the split, gripping the fabric,” he instructs, waiting until Keith’s hands are steady. “Aaand dip.”

Keith lowers his arm, his one foot sliding back behind him, other knee still tucked up, his back curving. His body forms a smooth curve from his chest all the way down to his back foot.

“Good, but pull up on the fabric a little bit to raise your shoulders, you don’t want them against your ears.” 

He does and Lance feels his breath catch. Something about Keith listening to him, following his instructions without hesitation makes something in his stomach warm and he flushes. He’s beautiful in the air just like Lance knew he would be.

“Head back.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as breathy as he thinks he does.

Keith tips his head back, baring his throat again, dark hair spilling over his shoulders. His arms are shaking, sweat dappling over his chest as it rises and falls. The muscles in his stomach flutter with every breath. 

Lance makes him hold it for a moment more, just staring. 

“Now pull up until you’re standing again.” 

Keith grimaces, his arms still shaking. His hands slip and Lance catches him by the waist, supporting him as Keith gets his foot under him, helping him stand again. Lance can’t tell if it’s his pulse racing he feels in his palms or Keith’s. 

They stare at each other for a moment, Lance’s hands still on Keith’s waist, feeling him breathe. Eventually he clears his throat, pulling his hands back reluctantly as Keith stops swaying. 

“Remember how to get out?” Keith swallows and Lance’s eyes track the movement without realizing it.

Keith nods and Lance takes a half step back, just enough to give him space but not far enough away that he can’t stabilize him if something goes wrong. Keith’s arms give out on him part way through as he lifts his weight, using his other foot to try and knock the fabric around his other foot loose. He ends up hitting the floor, the fabric still tangled around his foot. 

Lance does laugh that time. 

~

In spite of the teasing Keith takes to the silks more than Lance was expecting and by the time he calls it quits Keith is smiling. 

“So I’ll see you tomorrow? Same time same place?” Lance collects his things, heading for the door as the silks retract into the ceiling. 

Keith nods, trying to hide the smile that’s been on his face for the past few minutes. He stoops to pick up his jacket, tucking his knife away from where he’d abandoned it earlier.

“Sure.” He raises a hand, wordlessly asking for his shirt back but Lance is still headed for the door.

“Lance. My shirt.”

Lance tosses a grin over his shoulder and doesn’t stop. 

“Looks better on me.” He flicks his fingers in a lazy wave. “Later Keith.” And with that he drifts out the door.

Keith shakes his head but he’s still smiling.

Lance never returns the shirt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a butterfly drop:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vp7MhfNf5m4


	4. Dropping Guard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so short, but have some more content for this au.

Over the next few weeks it becomes routine. Keith joins Lance for his aerial practice, sometimes just watching, giving up the pretense of cleaning his knife or working through the stretches Lance has him doing, to stare.

Lance is captivating in the air. Sometimes he manages to forget Keith is there, just playing between practicing old movements that he has to learn again, lost in the music. It’s those moments where Keith catches brief flickers of what’s in Lance’s heart; pain, love, regret, loneliness. When Lance forgets, Keith truly gets to see him. He’s beautiful in his vulnerability. Keith wishes those moments lasted longer.

Dishonest isn’t a word he’s ever associated with Lance and maybe that’s still not the right word for it, but when he sees him in the air Keith realizes just how guarded Lance is. He’d always thought of Lance as someone who wore his heart on his sleeve and in many ways he does, but when he’s in the air every shield Lance has falls away leaving him in the truest form of himself. Especially when he forgets someone is watching.

Sometimes Keith has to look away, feeling like he’s intruding on something he hasn’t been invited to see, his cheeks flushing. But he remembers Lance invited him here. Him. When no one else is allowed to watch. He wonders what makes him special, tries to quash the way it makes him feel, tries not to make more out of it than it is.

Lance delights in teaching Keith almost as much as he delights in being in the air himself. Together they work on improving Keith’s flexibility, strengthening his hands, his body. Lance secretly harbors the desire to one day perform alongside him. He can see the potential in Keith. He’s strong in the air, his movements powerful, energy in every line of his body. He’s still awkward and unsure but Lance can see what he’ll be capable of and he knows it’ll take his breath away. It already does.

~

When Keith nails his first drop Lance shrieks, barely waiting for his feet to hit the ground before he's dragging Keith into a hug. 

“You did it!” he squeals, squeezing Keith in his arms, all but spinning them around. “I’m so proud of you!” He pulls back, squishing Keith’s face in his hands and laughing, pride in his eyes, joy and unbridled excitement. His cheeks are flushed with it. It’s been a long time since someone looked at Keith like that.

Lance’s eyes are sparkling when he throws his arms around Keith for a second time, rocking them both in his delight.

“Do it again!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stylistically this is what I kind of imagine Keith’s aerial work looking like:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQGkWj5CWSk&t=0s&index=4&list=LLL9GU8JGNBjdMwXQ9LDmx3A
> 
> Strong, fast, powerful. Obviously he’s not there yet, but he will be.  
> Also this because Garret is amazing:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5BmoSn2uXM
> 
> And this is Lance:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNFxquGqkT4&index=10&list=LLL9GU8JGNBjdMwXQ9LDmx3A&t=0s  
> It’s also coincidentally basically the routine Keith walks in on Lance doing. Can you guess what he was thinking about now? If it wasn’t obvious already.  
> At 4:56 you can see the second positioning Lance moved into for a split second just before the roll when his back is parallel to the floor. If I figure out what it’s called I’ll let you know.


	5. Trust Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some floor work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have another one.

“Do you trust me?”

Keith squints at Lance suspiciously. They’ve been practicing floor work off and on both partnered and individual, Keith beginning to string the movements and tricks together, learning to dance both on the ground and in the air. Lance hasn’t breached the subject of an actual partnered dance yet, but he wants to, has choreography already running through his head but it’s complicated and absurdly intimate. He’s afraid of what Keith will say when he asks, hopes it’ll be yes, but it’s a lot of touching. The last thing he wants is to make Keith uncomfortable.

“Why?” he eventually asks, shaking out the silks next to him.

“There’s something I want to try.” 

Keith’s eyes narrow further, his hands stilling. “What?”

Lance chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “I’m gonna lay on the floor and hold your legs while you lean forward until you’re parallel with the ground without touching it. My body will ground yours so you don’t fall. But you have to trust me not to drop you. Then I’ll lever you back up.”

Keith stares at him, his eyes wide. “What do I have to do?” He still sounds suspicious but it’s not an outright refusal and Lance feels hope begin to lift in his chest. “Is that even possible?” He shakes his head like he can’t make the mental image work but it’s still not a no. “You sure your scrawny ass can hold me?” There’s a flicker of a smile in his eyes.

Lance grins. “Only one way to find out. All you have to do is stand there. Lock your body from head to foot and don’t panic. So long as you hold the pose and don’t panic you won’t hit the floor. So, I’ll ask again.” He takes a cautious step into Keith’s space. “Do you trust me.” 

Keith’s gaze flickers between Lance’s eyes and this close he can see the truth in them when Keith says “yes.”. 

He lies on the floor, Keith's feet on either side of his head.

“Ready?”

“No.” 

Lance tries not to smile. “Remember, lock up and don’t chicken out. Ideally I want you a scant few inches above the floor.”

Keith glares down at him. “Why am I letting you do this again?”

Lance’s heart skips in his chest. “Because you trust me.”

Keith scowls, his mouth twisting to the side but doesn’t say anything. Lance lifts his arms, wrapping them around Keith’s legs from the outside, the length of his forearms braced against Keith’s thighs. Startled, Keith looks down at him, something like fear in his eyes that Lance misinterprets.

“I’m not going to drop you. Promise.” 

Keith nods and looks away, trying not to focus on the heat of Lance’s hands against his legs through the fabric of his pants. 

Lance shifts on the floor, getting comfortable. “Now lean.”

Keith’s body goes rigid as he leans forward, trying not to panic as his center of gravity shifts so far forward he’s afraid he’s going to fall. Lance’s back arches high off the floor as Keith sinks further and further towards the ground. His hands curl into fists and he squeezes his eyes shut, his weight pressing all down along Lance’s arms from wrist to shoulder, his heels locked under Lance’s shoulders. He can hear him straining beneath him as he comes to a stop. 

Slowly Keith opens his eyes and realizes he’s staring at the floor. He can’t help the woosh of adrenaline that makes his heart skip, stomach fluttering with delighted laughter. It only lasts a moment before Lance is forcing his back down to the floor again, Keith doing his best to press his heels into the ground and then he’s standing again, knees shaking. 

Lance’s arms flop to the floor, both of them bursting into delighted laughter at the same time, giddy with adrenaline and disbelief. Keith can’t stop staring into Lance’s smiling eyes, his heart fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. He can’t remember ever being this happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This the routine I keep seeing them doing:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rc-OO6TKqpY&t=0s&list=LLL9GU8JGNBjdMwXQ9LDmx3A&index=5
> 
> The move Lance is referring to is at 1:17 whatever it’s called. Because damn that’s impressive.


	6. Balancing Act

When Lance slowly lowers himself into a split thirty feet in the air without the use of his hands Keith is terrified. He can see Lance’s legs shaking and he sways dangerously, one arm wheeling in the air to right himself before he falls.

He holds the pose longer than Keith would like, barely daring to breathe for fear of throwing off his precarious balance. Keith stops breathing entirely.

Sweat drips from Lance’s face, his cheeks flushed with strain before he stands back up again. Keith can’t even imagine the kind of strength and self control something like that takes.

He whispers a sigh of relief when Lance’s hands are back on the silks, a wide grin on his face, giddy with adrenaline.

“I did it!” He tips his head back and laughs, swinging in the air. His arms are still shaking. Keith feels like his heart is drumming out of his chest, but he swells with pride. He loves that feeling of accomplishment he gets when Lance succeeds, delights in it as much as when he nails a combat move against the gladiator himself or one of the tricks Lance has taught him. When one of them succeeds they both do.

Lance tips his head against the silk, grinning down at him, his body swaying in the air.

“Your turn,” he teases and Keith scoffs.

“Pretty sure I’m never going to be able to do that.” His voice is a dry rasp but somehow Lance still manages to hear him.

“Yes you will.” His eyes are wide and bright as he smiles down at Keith, expression unbearably fond and Keith is stunned.

The firm conviction and absolute faith in Lance’s voice, like he has no doubt of Keith’s ability, has him rooted to the spot, his head craned back. Something shivers down his spine, raising goosebumps as it goes. He can’t stop staring up at Lance.

He says it like it’s a fact, something unmalleable that simply hasn’t happened yet. Like it’s a fact of the universe and everything else will bend and fold around it until it’s true. Keith can’t believe the amount of faith Lance has in him. That someone like Lance of all people could see that in him when he can’t even see it himself.

He’s felt broken for so many years, but the way Lance looks at him makes him feel beautiful, capable, like he’s finally worth something outside of his ability to fight, his worth as a soldier. 

“You’re amazing you know that?” He still can’t get his voice any higher than a dry whisper, his face flushed.

Lance grins and starts to descend, the red fabric sliding around and between his legs. Keith has to resist the urge to reach out and touch him as Lance drops past, eyes dragging up the length of him until he comes to a stop. Keith’s never wanted anything more.

Lance leans into the silks as he lands, his legs still shaking, breathing heavily. They’re barely a breath away and Keith has to curl his hands to keep from reaching for him.

Lance flicks sweaty hair out of his face. He’s practically glowing.

“You’re going to be amazing,” he pants, a wide grin still on his face as he searches Keith’s eyes. “I know you are.” He sways back, hands still tight around the silks and Keith can breathe again. He swallows thickly.

“With you teaching me I have no doubt.”

Lance flushes in pleasure, legs finally solidifying beneath him, swaying the silks at Keith.

“Come on, you haven’t been in the air all day.”

“Pretty sure seeing that left _my_ legs too weak to stand,” he teases, crossing his arms to keep from touching Lance. The desire won’t go away.

“You’re standing now.”

“Barely.” This close he can see the soft, barely there red of the light bouncing off the fabric next to Lance’s face. He’s never looked more beautiful.

Keith smiles and rocks back on his heels. “Come on, give me a break, you worked me hard yesterday. My everything hurts.” He knows it comes out wrong when a slow smile stretches across Lance’s face though he tries valiantly to make it stop.

Keith slaps a hand over his burning face. “Oh my god I didn’t mean it like that.”

He can hear Lance laughing even though he’s biting his lips, trying not to.

“Did I say anything?”

Keith glares at him from between his fingers.

“I didn’t say anything!” He laughs openly, the sound echoing around the room. “You big baby,” he mutters. “Fine, then show me how you’ve been progressing through your stretches. It’ll help work some of the pain out.”

Keith is still blushing but he moves onto the far corner of the mat. “I swear if this is just an excuse for you to stare at my ass-”

“Would I really tell you if it was?” Lance crosses his arms, weight shifting onto one hip. He’s grinning and Keith doesn’t stop blushing all throughout his stretches, feeling Lance’s eyes on him. He corrects Keith’s posture, giving him a couple new poses to try, even coaxes him into the air for a little bit before chasing him off to the showers.

“You should be doing that after every session. It’ll help.”

Keith nods. “Thanks Lance.”

He smiles and it’s so damn soft. “You’re welcome. See you tomorrow?”

In spite of everything Keith’s heart skips, a smile spreading across his face to match Lance’s.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the fuck even is this chapter.  
> Anyway, final chapter coming soon! Needs one last polish and it should be good to go.
> 
> Balance split Lance does:   
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BqyOb3thmdw/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link  
> Also Brandon Scott because I’m obsessed with him:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsKTDfD8UlI


	7. Better?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I literally just promised the last chapter but this isn’t it. It just snuck in there too. This au is getting away from me. Will it ever end? Gods only know.

“Favorite routine you’ve ever done.” Keith leans back on one hand, sipping from a water pouch. They’ve taken a break for lunch, idly talking about Lance’s history with aerial silks, both of them tired and pleasantly sore.

Lance hums thoughtfully, chewing on a dehydrated goo bar Hunk made them for on the go.

“Probably the last one I ever did before the Garrison. The studio I danced with wanted to do something experimental so they rented out a rain room.”

“What’s a rain room?”

Lance smiles. “It is literally a room where they pump water through the ceiling to make it rain inside. It was _amazing_. I got to do a routine soaking wet and blindfolded.”

Keith chokes on his goo bar, coughing into his elbow. Lance has the audacity to laugh at him but smacks him on the back until he can breathe again.

“Are you insane?” Keith chokes out, one hand on his chest. His eyes are watering.

“I mean obviously.” Lance rolls his eyes playfully. “But I was a lot better then than I am now and they had me practicing for hours only a few feet off the floor before they actually put me in the air.”

Keith’s eyes flicker to the silks behind them before darting back to Lance.

“You get _better_?”

Lance laughs again, ducking his head and scratching at his cheek. He’s smiling sheepishly and his cheeks are red.

“Yeah.” He looks up at Keith from under his eyebrows. “I used to compete remember? What I’m doing now is mostly just re-learning how to do everything, stringing the tricks together. I haven’t actually performed in years and it’s probably been that long since I last seriously choreographed anything. Most of the time I’m just screwing around.”

Keith snorts. “If that’s what screwing around looks like I’d kill to actually see one of your performances.”

Lance flushes again, scratching at the hem of his pants. He feels warm all over, pleasure at the praise prickling over his skin.

“Seriously, I know I don’t know a damn thing about aerial silks but I know you’re good.” Keith says. “You’re damn good. So stop acting like you’re not.” His lips are pursed in a sour frown. “You move up there like you were born for it.” His eyes are sincere and his voice softens.

“It’s like you’re at home up there. Like you’re not afraid of anything.” He chews his lip, worrying it with his teeth. “When you’re up there it’s like watching you come alive.”

Lance is looking at him strangely, something like awe on his face and his lips are parted in surprise. Keith flushes under the scrutiny, scowling at the far wall in embarrassment.

Lance blinks, trying to make the words make sense in his head.

“Really?” His heart skips in his chest. “I always feel like I look stiff and awkward.” He plays with the seam of his pants again, pulling at the threads self-consciously.

Keith snorts, shaking his head. “We need to record your next practice session so you can get out of your own head and see yourself. It’s insane.”

Lance is smiling down at his lap. The back of his neck is warm. “That’s probably a good idea.” He clears his throat and looks anywhere but at Keith. “I tend to be my own worst critic.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Keith chews on the inside of his cheek, knee bouncing against the floor. “You don’t often deserve it.”

Lance pulls his head around to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you don’t screw up nearly as often as you think you do.” He plays with the straw on his water pouch. “Give yourself a break. You’re allowed to be kind to yourself as well as others you know?”

Lance is staring at him again.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” he says softly.

Keith’s mouth pulls sideways in a not quite smile. “Yeah.” He takes a deep breath and stands, wiping his hands off and smiles. “So, think I’m ready for an Iron Cross?” Break time is officially over.

“Ha!” Lance grins, eyes sparkling. “Let’s go find out.” And he lets Keith pull him to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the routine to which Lance is referring:  
> https://youtu.be/t_X09NCfyrc
> 
> I have no idea what this is or where it came from. It just showed up. At this point I think it’s pretty much an excuse to share awesome aerial silk videos with you guys.
> 
> This is an Iron Cross:   
> https://youtu.be/e4QbOxrjZWA
> 
> Think he can do it?


	8. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the love of god JUST KISS HIM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER!!! Bonus chapter to follow thanks to Nonbinary_Queen who offered up an idea and the trash gremlin in my brain decided to run with it. So that's still coming but this is the full and completed nonsensical plot for this au which took on a life of its own. I hope you enjoyed the ride.

Keith doesn’t realize Lance is doing floor work underneath him until the song is almost over. He’s so lost in the music and the movements and the feel of the silks around him that he doesn’t see Lance dancing in tandem with him, beautiful and aching and so filled with love he feels his heart stop. When he does he wants nothing more than to be back on the ground. 

Their eyes meet briefly, the weight of Lance’s gaze drawing Keith back to the ground more surely than gravity and he falls, trusting in the fabric around his ankles to catch him. The music is deafening as he’s suspended in the air in a coffin drop, hands tight around the fabric below his head and Lance is in front of him, finally there. Both of them are breathing heavily, Keith’s heart racing. He can feel Lance’s breath on his lips as he hangs there, more open and vulnerable than he’s ever been in his life. 

They’ve been dancing around each other for months and Keith is tired of wanting, tired of not knowing, tired of  _ waiting _ . 

He can feel Lance pulling away, the weight of the moment stretching thin.  _ Don’t go. _ His body arches forward, trying to recover the space Lance is putting between them.

“Lance.” His voice is a breathy whisper, thick with want, pleading. He aches for Lance to come back, to take the open invitation he’s giving him. He can feel the heat of him, blood throbbing in his head as Lance hovers a breath away, so close and still so damn far. 

“Please.” 

He can hear Lance breathing, feel his presence, everything suspended between them for one terrifying moment that feels like eternity, just long enough for terror to begin creeping in.

He stops breathing the moment their lips meet, still parted, sharing breath and then Lance is holding him, cradling his face like Keith is something tender and valuable, something he wants, pressing into the kiss. He has to stretch up onto his toes, his weight leaning into Keith. 

Lance’s hands on Keith hold him steady, grounding him like they always have through the haze of dizzy adrenaline, heart thrumming in his ears. 

Lance tilts his head, the kiss turning from vulnerable and curious to something deeper, warmer, filled with want and something ages old. The kind of thing that feels like it could move mountains.

When he pulls away it feels like breathing for the first time. 

Keith can’t help the whine in the back of his throat as Lance goes, trying to chase him. When he opens his eyes Lance is smiling. He reaches out to tug on a lock of Keith’s hair. 

“Get down before you hurt yourself. You’re turning purple.”

His head is spinning and he Keith doesn’t think it’s from hanging upside down. 

“How about you come get me instead?” His eyes sparkle with mischief and before Lance can grab him he’s scrambling back up the silks. He’s almost to the ceiling before he stops, grinning down at Lance who has his hands on his hips.

“You get back down here and kiss me Kogane.” He stabs a finger at the floor. Keith can’t stop grinning. He’s never felt so light.

“You want me, come get me,” he taunts, holding onto the silks with one hand. 

Lance hasn’t stopped scowling. “I followed you across space you asshole, don’t think thirty feet is going to stop me.”

Keith has to catch the silks with both hands so his legs don’t give out when Lance says that. No one has ever wanted him enough to chase him and the idea that Lance of all people would, makes him weak. 

“Pretty sure you’re the one who dragged me to space,” he rasps. He hopes it comes out stronger than he feels but he doubts it.

He watches Lance’s jaw flex and he reaches out to wiggle the fabric, making Keith sway overhead.

“Don’t think I won’t come up there after you,” he threatens, giving Keith one more chance to come back down.

Keith’s heart is racing. “Prove it.”

Lance never could pass up a challenge. 

Keith’s eyes fly open and he panics as Lance starts climbing the silks after him. He really hadn’t expected that.

“Oh my god, Lance! We’re gonna fall!” He holds on for dear life as Lance climbs up under him, not stopping until they’re as face to face as they can be. He has one arm around Keith’s waist, wrapping around him to grip the fabric between them. It pulls the silk sideways in Keith’s hands, forcing them together. There’s next to no space between them and Keith has never been so turned on in his life.

Keith blushes down his neck and Lance follows it with his eyes. 

“I’m here,” he whispers, dragging his gaze back up. “Where’s my kiss?” 

“You’re the worst,” Keith chokes out, knuckles white around the fabric. 

“And you’re still not kissing me,” Lance breathes against his mouth.

He bumps Keith’s nose, lifting his chin in invitation. He can feel when Keith’s breath hitches, his stomach fluttering against Lance’s. He’s fairly certain Lance can feel how fast his heart is beating. 

Then he’s tipping his head to the side, pressing his mouth to Lance’s in a shy kiss. Lance smiles into it as the doors hiss open and Pidge walks inside, stumbling to a halt as they see them tangled around one another in the air.

“What...the FUCK.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coffin drop:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2dGlRdmlM8Y&t=16s
> 
> The routine they eventually do together when Lance finally brings it up because I have no idea how to write that:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YIbUZpJlmEo&list=LLL9GU8JGNBjdMwXQ9LDmx3A&t=0s&index=7
> 
> It’s up to you whether or not they show it to the rest of the team but they do film it. Lance wants to show his sister.


	9. Bonus AU chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is an alternate get-together chapter. So it’s an au in an au.

In spite of all Keith’s comments to the contrary, he does eventually learn to do a balance split. Lance is breathless, watching from the ground. His heart is racing in his chest, pulse fluttering in his throat with excitement. He can barely stand still as Keith nails the pose, hands extended out to either side in a full split. He nearly falls sideways as he goes to stand back up but when he finally does Lance lets out the scream that’s been building in his throat. He shrieks, jumping in the air, firsts raised in the air, absolutely flowing with pride. 

“You did it! You fucking did it!” He shrieks again as Keith slides down the silks to the floor. Lance is practically vibrating and grabs Keith before he realizes what he’s doing, kissing him firmly before pulling away, a wide grin on his face. His eyes fly open as he realizes what he’s just done.

“I- oh my god I’m sorry. I didn’t- fuck I’m so sorry.”

Keith blinks rapidly, mouth opening and closing for a moment, expression dumbfounded. Lance’s heart leaps into his throat as his stomach drops into his knees. He’s too hot and too cold, palms sweating. He’s ruined it. All of it. Keith is never going to come back or talk to him ever again. All the trust they’ve built up is going to shatter apart and Keith is going to hate him. 

He’s never been so scared. 

“I didn’t mean-”

“You gonna do that every time I nail something new?” His eyes are wide and dark as they finally find Lance’s and they’re both blushing. Keith still looks somewhat dumbstruck. 

And wow, Lance was not expecting that. He snaps his mouth shut, still cold with fear. 

“Maybe?” 

A smile is pulling at the side of Keith’s mouth like he can’t control it. 

“Guess I better keep practicing then.” 

Lance’s tongue darts out to wet his lips as he glances away, rubbing at the back of his flushed neck. 

“Yeah, guess so.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: OH my god why didn't you guys tell me there were so many damn spelling errors! Traitors. Cleaned up and edited a few bits so it flows more nicely. And here's a link to a scribble of one of the poses Lance is doing when Keith walks in:  
> http://freyamaat.tumblr.com/post/180633500238/have-a-drapey-lance-i-gave-up-on-coloring-this


End file.
